


Il Corvo

by Arvalee Knight (AvaWhiteRaven), AvaWhiteRaven



Series: Ezio Auditore [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Asexual Reader, Background story, Dubious Consent?, Eventual Sex, F/M, Minor Violence, Mostly geared towards later events with Ezio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaWhiteRaven/pseuds/Arvalee%20Knight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaWhiteRaven/pseuds/AvaWhiteRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Past: {1476: Ezio 17, Il Corvo 18, La Volpe 23}</p><p>You were a simple beggar and petty thief until La Volpe found you. He takes you on as a protege and teaches you to not survive as a thief but to thrive as one.</p><p>This story is the background events for the next story in the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fox

Your boots clattered against the terracotta rooftops, the pale light of the moon glimmering off of their dark red surface. You followed an unseen path, one you had taken many times to win coins in races or to escape the wrath of the guards.

You weren't a criminal. Not truly. You were hungry and desperate and sometimes hungry and desperate people will do what they must to survive. So, yes, you stole things here and there. And over time, you had grown close with others who stole things. And perhaps, there were times when you all stole things together as a group. But criminals? Villains? You were a petty thief at best, a simple survivalist.

Tonight you weren't running from the guards. Tonight with the warm wind in your hair and the cold sweat trickling down your back, you were running for the joy of it and the power behind each slam of your boots one after the other. Without an ounce of hesitation, you leapt from the edge of the roof and landed skillfully onto the corner of a stone balcony. The balls of your feet took your weight for only a few seconds before you leapt off of the railings, cascading slowly downwards into the alleyway below.

Your small little group of misfit thieves were meeting just around the corner and you were running late. You had grown close to the group, uniting together to survive but staying together for companionship and camaraderie. The self-appointed leader of the group had sent out word that their would be a quick heist, a simple one that would fill the bellies of every beggar on the streets. You doubted it. But if you got something out of the deal, even a few crumbs, it was worth it.

You strolled through the alley, the moon providing just enough light to see the way. You stepped out into the open expanse with the expectation that they would be gathered together, squabbling like close siblings but still smiling all the same. It was silent tonight, chilling you down to the bone, and then the pungent smell of tart blood bit against your nostrils until it burned the back of your throat. You hurried forward too quickly for your brain to process the sight.

Your heart jolted and stomach cringed when you recognized the faces of the corpses before you. Their bodies were littered among unfamiliar black and red armored knights. There must have been an ambush. Someone must have betrayed the group. There was no other explanation... But you looked from face to face, dropping to your knees when you realized every one of them had died in the skirmish.

You had been so consumed in your grief that you hadn't heard anyone approach. An arm grappled around your torso, the cold press of a blade against the feverish skin of your neck. Their was a laugh from somewhere behind you. "This is unexpected," he stated, the touch of humor still on the tip of his tongue.

The brute of a man holding you growled against your ear, "I guess your friends didn't make it."

You struggled against his strength, his arm moving to your neck to strangle the last bit of air out of you. "If you're going to kill me then get it over with!" When you couldn't withstand the loss of oxygen, you gave up and he relaxed his grip.

He huffed, arrogant and proud. He shoved you to the ground with a foot to the back of your knee. "I've no interest in killing pathetic little mice but since you offered..." His large hand found your skull, snatching hold of your hair until you were painfully looking up at the others that began circling around.

Four of them. They were all garbed in white and red, their cowls pulled up to hide their faces, swords and daggers cluttered their belts. They were well armed and they carried themselves like fighters, confident yet cautious.

"Tell us what happened here, little mouse." When he saw the determination in your eyes he tightened his grip. "Don't make this difficult."

You winced, a growl slipping through clenched teeth. "Burn in hell."

He chuckled. He let go of your hair and straightened his spine regally. "I tried to be reasonable." He swung a hard fist, knuckles connecting with cheekbone. Harsh heat bloomed outwards, increasing even deeper after the second punch. "Any words to speak, now?"

You rolled your eyes upwards at him, hardly phased by the beating. Living on the streets had toughened you, had taught you that broken bones and bruises were a part of life. Sparring with the other thieves had built up your tolerance for physical pain.

"I'm losing patience, little mouse." He hurried forward, thrusting a foot forward into the softness of your stomach. Your body tumbled backwards, curling helplessly until he once more jerked you back onto your knees.

"Stop." The calmness in his voice halted your heart mid-beat. He had only just entered into the small back street courtyard. He turned his attention to you, the shadow of his hood obscuring his expression. "Tell us what you know, brigand."

Blood pooled in your mouth, coating it in bitter iron. You spat at his feet, viciously hissing, "I'm not telling you anything. I'll die first."

He turned his attention to the group around him which must have made him their leader. "There is nothing for us here. Whatever knowledge they had... It is gone now."

"Good." There was a deep laugh from the man beside you. There was the slide of metal, a blade spearing outwards from his wrist guard. "Then we've no reason to let her live."

Your jaw clenched, fingers curling in preparation to fight for freedom.

The leader stepped forward, something similar to anger flickering across the rigidness of his stance. "This is not our way."

"She's a thief," he growled but he finally let the blade slip back out of view. He pulled his fist back, thrusting it forward too quickly for you to block and hard enough that darkness speckled over your vision. You swayed, your hands barely catching your weight before falling unconscious.

You weren't sure how long you'd been lying there, if it had been mere seconds or if it had been days. Your eyes barely pried themselves open, the world blurring into hazy gray. You could hear the muffled sounds of someone speaking and it wasn't until their face came into view that you were certain of it. They carefully assessed you, hands gently gathering your limp body.

Your vision began to darken once more, the world too distant for you to react to anything being said or done. Your thoughts swirled, conjuring up their faces and the chilling creak of metal striking forward.

You gasped and sat up quickly, the memories of the men surrounding you still haunting and the blistering pain of the assault still fresh. Your eyes locked onto the space before you. It wasn't the dark alley where you had discovered your slaughtered friends. It was the pale walls of a room, the bed beneath you soft against your swaying form.

"You've woken." His voice was soothing, a lively sound to the ears and it drew your gaze. "I am pleased to see that you weren't entirely lost." He wore a bright mustard-yellow jerkin over a loose orange shirt, vibrant orange leggings to match. He stood over a desk that was cluttered with an odd assortment of glass vials, bowls, and books. He was certainly an odd sight to behold.

You lifted a shaky hand and pressed it into the throbbing of your skull. "Who... are you?"

His lips twitched, a barely audible chuckle. "Rest. We will talk when you are better." He motioned towards the pillow and waited until you lied back down.

You grudgingly pressed your spine into the bed, nearly groaning in delight to have its support. "Where am I?" You looked about the room one more time, finding that it was a simple space, nothing lavish or extravagant.

"Do you remember anything that happened?"

You rolled your attention to the ceiling, remembering clearly the men who had surrounded you and the odd blade that had jutted out of the vambrace like an eager cobra. You rolled your vision to him, peering over at him as he worked. "Tell me who you are and I'll tell you what I remember."

He focused on the desk for a moment and if he hadn't turned around you would have thought he was ignoring you. He brought with him a small cup and placed it onto the bedside table. His expression was soft, lips curling at their edges. "Drink all of this. The doctor gave me the remedy to help with your pain."

You smirked in return, unable to help yourself. "You avoided my question again."

"So I did." His smile increased even more as he sat down slowly onto the edge of the bed, almost as if he were afraid that moving too quickly might cause you pain. "You may call me La Volpe."

"The Fox," you laughed, breathy and nearly teary-eyed at the absurdity of the name. But then you suddenly recognized it. How could you not recognize it? "You are La Volpe? The thief? The one who stole jewels right off of a nobleman's hand without him noticing."

"I am called La Volpe, yes. And I suppose that yes I am a thief." He tilted his head and leaned ever so slightly forward, the green of his eyes all the more vivid. "It was actually the pope's jewels."

You couldn't stop your laugh soon enough, the idea that La Volpe himself had found you. He was so young looking, perhaps a few years older than you. He didn't look like a thief who could be in ten places at once but you were sure that some rumors were over exaggerated.

"Now, shall you speak of what occurred in the alley?"

Your excitement and delight began to drain away. "My friends..." You remembered suddenly their lifeless expressions and the blood that had stained the earth of the dilapidated enclosure. "They were murdered."

"They were thieves?"

You sat up abruptly, furious that he would reduce them down to a simple title. "They were still people."

He lifted up his palms, a meager surrender. "Please. I did not mean to suggest that their deaths were warranted. I meant only that they might have been killed for such a reason." La Volpe placed a soft, almost hesitant, hand upon your shoulder. "Please. Relax."

Your body had been so tense and you hadn't realized it. You lied back down on the bed, eyes locked with his, silently determining whether or not you could trust him. "How did you find me?"

"I was passing through the area. On the rooftops above. I saw the aftermath and decided to investigate." He took hold of the cup of tea and handed it over. "This should be cool enough for you now."

You shifted in bed, back supported by the pillow. "Why are you helping me?"

"You are a fellow thief, are you not?" His lips quivered into a smirk, those dark green eyes glinting. "Besides, how could I leave a beautiful woman to suffer her fate?"

"Flirt," you muttered before taking a sip of the warm and bitter liquid. Your face must have reacted harshly because it drew a chuckle from him. "This is awful."

"It is." He finally stood up and walked towards a chair that adorned a slight extravagant brown cape. "I must leave for a few hours on... business. Stay here and regain your strength." La Volpe flourished the cape expertly over his shoulders and confidently pulled the hood up until half of his face was cast in shadow. "You are free to leave. I can not make you stay here. But I plea with you to take a few days to rest."

You watched him stroll towards the door. "La Volpe." You swallowed your pulse when he glanced slightly over his shoulder. "Would you train me? To be a better thief."

He reached up and took the rim of his hood between his fingers. "To get revenge?"

Your gaze flitted away. "No... But if I happen to run into the men that did this..."

He opened the door and for a moment you were certain he had turned down your offer. But after another moment of silence La Volpe calmly replied, "In the morning we shall begin your training."

You realized your heart was pounding after La Volpe left you alone to sit in the silence, to sit in the misery of having lost everyone you knew. You should have been prepared for it. On the streets and in the alleys it was common for people to die. It was to be expected that they wouldn't live long. But to lose them all at once... To have them murdered so viciously...

You wouldn't end up like them. You weren't going to allow yourself to die so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things before continuing with the story. This story will feature an asexual Reader. Asexuality is not having any sexual attraction to either gender but there can be romantic attraction, however. There are different spectrums to this sexuality as each person is different. I'm writing it this way because a.) there is so little representation for asexuals and it is usually done very badly as in showing them as callous or emotionless, etc and b.) I'm asexual and this story sort of started off as a simple idea and then grew and sort of became meaningful.
> 
> Another thing is that the story will be broken into either two or three main parts. The first part of the story is Reader x La Volpe and it does NOT end well. So, if you were hoping for a happy La Volpe fanfic, I'm really sorry ^-^;;; It will be mostly geared towards Ezio. The second and third part of the story will consist of Reader x Ezio and things will be a rollercoaster of good and bad.
> 
> I would like to go ahead and put some cards out onto the table as a heads up for those reading this story. Our Reader starts out in the story not really knowing her sexuality. She has never had an encounter because her mother, to survive, was a prostitute and this deterred her away from selling herself to survive on the streets (hence why she is a thief).
> 
> As an asexual, when she does finally have sex it will be uncomfortable and incredibly awkward but she does this for her loved one. Which, realistically, does happen. There are plenty of asexuals who marry and have sex and it can be a difficult time for them (I wanted to show that realism and struggle).
> 
> The Reason I'm pointing this out and giving out some spoilers? Because, as I was nearing that point in writing, I realized that it was very uncomfortable. I wouldn't say rape or nonconsensual. Perhaps dubious consent...? Since our Reader is so uncertain and having such a difficult time. I'm not sure of any warning labels and I wanted to go ahead and explain so that while you are reading this story (or to deter you away from reading) you aren't suddenly hit with this uncomfortable and maybe even upsetting moment.
> 
> I don't want to make anyone feel offended or upset while reading so hopefully this helps :D


	2. The Crow

La Volpe returned some time later, his movements throughout the room had woken you. You stayed in bed a moment longer, listening to his quiet shuffles, before finally sitting up and slowly getting to your feet. His hood was drawn but you knew it was him. He was the only man in the whole city who would wear such a bright and absurd outfit.

"Is that why they call you La Volpe?" You smirked when he finally peered over at you, his fingers delicately holding a pen over parchment. "Your bright orange clothes?"

He finally allowed himself to laugh before returning to his quick scribbles. "I myself chose the title. You should consider one. It would be unwise for people to know your true name."

A mirror caught your eye, it's silver glint flickering from the faint glow of a nearby candle. You approached the worn and weathered reflection, taking in the ugly swollen wounds left behind by the brutal assault. Your fingers brushed across the puffy bruise that formed around your eye and the scabs that snaked along your cheek and jaw. It was nothing compared to the wounds your friends had received... your dead friends.

"They will heal." La Volpe delicately pulled your hand away, his movements toward your side having gone completely unnoticed. He had been so quiet, so quick. It was no wonder that he was an excellent thief. "Do not worry yourself over such a transient matter."

"Me? Worried?" You let your lips part, a soft and barely noticeable smile on them as you stepped forward. "Never."

He let his gaze linger a bit longer over your mouth with full knowledge of what you were doing. He was clever, unfooled by the charms of others. There was a touch of humor when he spoke, "As a criminal on the streets, I'm certain scrapes go along with your job description."

You averted your attention from his face, focusing on the touch of his hand against yours. You let your fingers brush across the smooth skin on the top of his hand before softly asking, "Does this mean you will train me now?"

"You are eager." His eyes never left your face as his fingers copied your actions. The small touches were delightful and you took joy from the minor flirting. "I will teach you what I can. There are some things, however, that you must learn on your own."

You stepped forward once more, closing the last amount of space, teasingly close enough to kiss him as you tilted your head back. "There are some things that I have already learned."

He tried to press his smirk away but it was difficult. "You are quite young."

"Oh?" You lifted a brow. "I hadn't realized you were such an old man."

He let go of your hand and you were almost broken hearted about it until the tip of his finger slid across your jaw. It took everything in you not to gasp. He spoke with a fragile smile, "I am twenty-three..."

"See. Only a five year difference."

"You are tempting..." He gave a slight shake of his head. "But we have other matters to concern ourselves with."

"Training? Is that truly more important than this?"

He stepped back and spun on his heels but you saw rather clearly the smirk that still adorned his lips. "There will be plenty of time for that. There is little time for proper training." He opened the door of the small hovel and waited until you followed him out onto the streets.

You reflected his gentle stroll, casually walking the labyrinth of the vast city. "And what exactly is proper training for a thief?"

"I will teach you to go unseen, to blend into those around you and to catch the eyes of others in a better light."

You scoffed, doubting his advice entirely. "Why would I want to catch their attention?"

La Volpe ceased his steps before reaching the marketplace in the distance, over the bridge. "You will need new clothes. Ones far superior to the rags you wear now. At this moment, if you were to walk through a crowd, they would see a beggar and a desperate soul."

You glanced at the worn and weathered cloth, the dirt that stained them and the frayed tears along the edges. "And what exactly do you suggest? If I dressed like you, I'd never go unseen."

"Hide in plain sight." The corner of his mouth twitched. "They will see me but they will think me a noble or a rich merchant. Should their coin purse go missing, they will barely give me a glance. They will look at you and think that you stole it. Dressed more extravagantly and they would see you and think you were far too rich to be a petty thief."

He was right and you knew it. If you are a wolf and amongst sheep, you should wear sheep's clothing. Of course, for him it was a fox wearing sheep's clothing. He seemed so young and yet he seemed so well informed. You couldn't underestimate him.

You laughed suddenly as you caught a glimpse of a well dressed woman pass by. "You're not going to make me wear a dress, are you?"

His gaze skimmed over your figure, head tilting and eyes gleaming. "It would be easier for you to go unnoticed that way but... I suppose you are against it?"

"If we were going to a masquerade..." You shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. "But, what if I needed to run?"

He gave a slight nod in submission but looked disappointed he wouldn't see you wearing one. "Then I suppose I'll have to sneak us into a ball one day." He walked over the bridge and stopped halfway at its peak. "How did you normally steal?"

"Is this a serious question?" You lifted a brow at him but when he made no reply you added, "I grabbed it and ran... Very quickly, I might add."

La Volpe narrowed his eyes, displeased with your answer. "What if the guards caught you? What then?"

"They don't." You couldn't help but boast. You had been one of the best thieves in the group after all. "I'm quick and I know the rooftops better than anyone. Especially, the guards."

"Perhaps. But by running, you waste energy and risk getting yourself or others caught." He stood taller now, chin held a bit higher. "Fine satin and silks will disguise you but your fingers must learn to not only be light but clever enough to know when the opportune moment has arisen. Your target must be distracted."

"And how should I distract my target?" You leaned back against the railings on the bridge, stretching out your body and bringing full attention towards your puffed chest.

He couldn't help himself. He let his attention follow your figure and linger momentarily on the opening of cleavage. He shook his head but he was amused all the same. "Not with your body. You don't want your target to see you, not truly. You want them to find their own distraction. Perhaps the ships out in the bay or perhaps the merchant selling them a new hat. When they are focused on other things then they can not point you out as the thief."

"And after I've stolen it? What then?"

He almost chuckled but he tried to remain the serious teacher. "You will walk away calmly, even when the guards arrive. The moment you run is the moment you admit your guilt." He paced across to the other side of the bridge then turned his attention back towards you. "Tell me why it is that you steal."

"The same reason anyone steals." You narrowed your eyes, not quite following his game. He was clever and intelligent and perhaps you could even call him wise. La Volpe was prodding you for a reason. "Survival. Desire. Enjoyment."

"I don't want the reasons that others have." He turned away again, his focus out over the canal that snaked its way into the cluster of tall buildings. "I want your reason. Why did you become a thief?"

You shoved off of the rough stone bannister and walked towards him, a sudden annoyance gripping you. "I stole because I was hungry. I kept stealing because it was the only thing I knew. Do you think someone in this city will hire me? Give me a job?"

La Volpe gave a nod of his head but kept his focus elsewhere. "The child scraping by no longer exists. You are no longer helpless. You are no longer desperate."

You huffed, anger melting away but it still lingered. "So, tell me then, great wise one. Why is it that you steal? How are you better than me?"

"You think that I am being cocky?" He finally gave you his attention, made a few steps towards you as he analyzed your expression.

"You certainly seem to think your stealing is somehow holier than my own."

"Why do you think it is that I stole from the Pope? For the jewels? For self-pleasure?" He walked around you, the warmth of his hand sliding across the bend of your lower back, a wave of goosebumps rolling across your skin. "I stole from him to send a message. It was a message to not only him but to the rest of the world. That I, a lowly commoner, a petty thief living life in the dark alleys, could reach the high and almighty Pope. That his army of guards and even his own god could not protect him from me. That he is a mortal man and mortal men have weaknesses."

La Volpe's presence burned against your spine, his words brushing warmly across the nape of your neck, "Those who have power will always have a weakness." He finally stopped circling. He stood before you, eyes more scrutinizing than before. "All you have done your entire life is survive. Now, I want you to live for something."

His words shook you. You repeated all of his lecturing from the beginning of the day until that moment, considering and reconsidering exactly what his point was. Everything he had said, every little point that he had made, was infuriating but true.

You finally muttered, "What do you need me to do?"

La Volpe seemed to stare into you, past your thoughts and into the very center of your soul. "Whoever you once were and whatever reasons you had before, they no longer exist. You will become a new person. You will become a better person. You will disown your name. You will disown your clothes. You will disown your past. Do you still wish for me to train you?"

You hesitated at first but you gave a firm nod of your head. You hadn't ever lived for anything. You had only scraped by for the sake of survival. Here was your opportunity to make something of yourself and to be more than just a beggar. "Yes. What's first?"

"Forget your old name." He finally managed a grin, motioning you to follow him across the bridge towards the bustle of the market's courtyard. "By having an alias, you will cause the public to see an ideal rather than a person. They will think you are untouchable. They will think you are somehow magical." He flicked a teasing smile at you. "And perhaps, they will exaggerate their stories when they tell them."

"A name?" You hummed your consideration. "You have chosen to be a fox, a clever and sly creature, picking at the scraps of greater creatures."

He stopped and peered at you from beneath his hood, hands tucked casually behind his back, lips pulled into a tense smirk. "Are you trying to goad me?"

You laughed, enjoying the sound of humor in his voice but mostly getting to tease him. "I don't want just scraps... I want the glint of jewels and the shine of coin." You thought back to a moment when you had stolen those first few coins as a child, the allure it had left in you. "Il Corvo." You smirked widely, pleased with the name and the title. "Smart and crafty birds."

"And harbingers of death." He continued through the stone arches of the courtyard and stopped before one of the tables lined with piles of materials for display. "We will never take the life of an innocent. Is that understood?"

You gave a shocked laugh that he would even suggest it. "Of course."

"Good." He gave a nod of his head and moved onwards towards a structure that he had been looking for. He stepped into the open space, tables showing off the latest fashion trends. "Choose your items and I shall pay for them."

You eyed him for a moment before walking along each table. You could sense the merchant's vigilant gaze as you carefully looked over the garments. He saw the beggar that you were. He saw the bruises and the cut across your face.

Il Corvo. You considered what sort of attire such a title deserved. You took a long look at La Volpe, scrutinized the lavishness that overshadowed the hood that hid away his face. You thought of the hooded crow, the beautiful black and soft pale grays of the bird, the iridescent glimmer of dark blues upon its wings that glinted beneath the light of the sun.

You gathered the items into your arms and placed them before the merchant. He wearily shifted his eyes between you and La Volpe. He only grew calm after the items were paid for and the both of you had left.

"Let us return home. You will change your attire and I will find us something to eat."

"Does this mean my training is over?"

He grinned, turning his head away so that you wouldn't catch sight of it but it was far too late. "For today, yes. Tomorrow we shall begin your true training... Il Corvo."

You liked hearing him speak this new name, this strange alias. It gave you a sudden sense of power. Having a new identity liberated you from your past. It washed you clean, if only on the surface.

~:~

Back at the small hovel, you were secretly delighted to slip into a new set of clothes. You couldn't even remember the last time you had anything new, and especially something to claim as your own. You didn't want anyone to know you were thrilled, however. Perhaps it was an old habit but you thought it a great weakness to desire something that could be taken from you.

You washed away the dirt and dust from your body and more importantly from your hair. You sprinkled on the perfume that La Volpe had given you, finding the habits of the rich to be far stranger than your own.

The black silken hosen was the only difficult item to get into it and you regretted having to wear such tight material. The grey hued doublet and shirt were far easier and hugged your body like an old friend. Your favorite part of everything was the dark blue cape, drawing up your hood with childish enjoyment. You slid your feet into the new pair of boots, finding that they were perfectly snug unlike your last pair that had been too loose and chafed against your heel.

You sashayed your way to La Volpe feeling fairly proud of yourself. "Now, I believe I'm a true thief."

He grinned, noting the confidence in your step. "I'm pleased to see you didn't die while you were in there. You were taking so long I was starting to wonder."

Once his attention returned to cleaning his weaponry, you rolled your eyes at his jesting. You sat down next to him at the dilapidated table, taking the opportunity to truly look over the infamous man. He was well built and muscled, a sign of his success to have eaten and thrived so well. He seemed calm and complacent but he was well aware that your attention was on him, each of his movements planned and precise. So secretive, so mysterious... He was alluring in that aspect. He was a puzzle and you rather enjoyed puzzles.

"How long have you been a thief?"

La Volpe grinned as he focused on caressing the cloth downwards across the metal of the blade. "I could ask you the same." He was always very good at deflecting your prodding with a question or a remark.

You laughed, knowing exactly how young you had been. "The very moment I could run away." You leaned forward, elbows against your legs, until you could peer beneath the dark brown hood. "But I don't have such a grand reputation as La Volpe."

"You will. When I have taught you all that I know, you will be able to do as you please." He set the blade aside suddenly and turned his attention to you. "The greater question is that once you have this new found freedom, the ability to do as you please... should you?"

You narrowed your eyes, weary of his lectures and his wisdom. "Why shouldn't I?" You stood up sharply. "I thought the lesson was over for today."

"The lesson is truly never over." His eyes skimmed downwards across your form as you stepped before him, placing yourself between his parted knees. "And neither is your teasing, it would seem." He rose to his feet before you could make any further advances.

You smirked when he found himself closer by standing than having remained sitting. You lifted your chin, lips inches away from kissing. "Are my flirtations making you uncomfortable, La Volpe?"

He tossed his head to glare off towards the window. "I am not one of your targets, Il Corvo. I am your mentor. You can not simply flirt with me in order to get your way."

Your brows dove downwards, lips parting with dismay. You took a step back and looked over his expression and the rigidness in his body. "That is what you think? That I'm seducing you in order to serve my own purpose?"

He quirked his brow, those gray-blue eyes piercing through you. "How often do you flirt with men? Is it a trained response that you've learned in order to survive? Because, I do not desire to take advantage of you."

You focused on your arm, tugging at the soft gray sleeve as you formed your response. "This may shock you but I don't usually flirt with men. The people that I knew..." You chuckled, remembering the odd assortment of thieves. So many of them had grown close to you. You shouldn't have allowed it to happen but the streets can be lonely and dark. Sometimes a familiar face was all that kept away the dreadful thoughts. "I wouldn't want their attention in that respect. They were... acquaintances and it was better for all of us if it stayed that way..." You finally looked at him, finding that his gaze unnerved you, made you feel vulnerable.

He let go of the breath he'd been holding and gave a few nods of his head but he still seemed uncertain. You closed the space once more, hesitant hands falling flat against his chest. He tilted his head, torn between decisions, torn between kissing and running. "There is still much for us to discuss..."

"Tomorrow?" You leaned a bit closer, still allowing him to make a choice. You tried to be timid, to be less brash in your advances. You didn't intend to frightening him away or to seem forceful. "It is growing late and..."

La Volpe allowed his lips to part and for the longest moment you thought he might finally press them against yours. But he straightened his spine and moved towards the door. "You are correct. It is late. We still haven't had dinner. And we will need our sleep. Tomorrow, we have to ride to Florence."

Your brows bowed beneath humor and confusion. "Florence?"

"There is... business that needs my attention." He barely gave you a glance before stepping out onto the city streets, his strange attempt at hiding his expression.

You followed at his heels, noting that he hadn't been specific for a reason. He was keeping secrets from you. "And what sort of business does a thief have exactly?"

He tucked his hands behind his back and followed a familiar path towards the closest tavern for a warm meal and drink. "Business matters that you are not yet ready to know about." La Volpe finally settled those pale eyes onto you, daring you to prod him for further information, but he wasn't going to budge in the least and you knew it.

You gave a shrug of your shoulder, a quick wink. "I'll find out eventually."

He gave a soft, breathy laugh before focusing on the darkening path. "You will find out when you are better equipped with knowledge and skill."

You nearly groaned, his constant lectures were becoming rather tedious. You knew he was right. You knew your skills needed polishing and your understanding of the world broadened. It was the process that was tedious. It was the idea that La Volpe was better than you at something, that somebody in this world was better. You couldn't stand the idea that you would have to take orders from someone.

You knew what part of the city you were in with barely a glimpse at your surroundings. You could find your way with your eyes closed the area was so familiar. You couldn't be sure but you had a feeling La Volpe was heading towards the smallest tavern in the area, one that few people were aware of. It was a gathering point for the more unlawful citizens of the city.

You were hopeful that walking in there with La Volpe would keep any violence or threats away. Being an urchin on the streets and growing into a thief, you'd gained a few enemies of varying degrees. Some wanted their money after a loan and others simply wanted revenge after a stolen job. It wasn't entirely your fault you stole their jobs. They should have kept it a better secret. They should have been better at stealing, too.

You stuck close to the fox, copying his movements through the tavern's nightly crowd and the small spaces between tables and chairs. You kept your hood drawn, using it to cast a shadow over your face and posting yourself next to him at the very end of the bar, tucked away into a corner. The both of you had caught many an eye, your clothes had been obvious giveaways, no doubt.

"We want their attention," muttered La Volpe, as if he had been listening to your silent analysis. "I want them to know that I am here."

You scoffed at his arrogance. "You want their admiration."

"Their loyalty," he corrected sharply. "And they must wonder what it was that I stole or who it is that I look for. Perhaps, they will spin a tale about my presence. Let the people's imagination do your work for you."

You bobbed your head away, catching glimpses of familiar crooks who were still scrutinizing. They were assessing whether or not they could take you both out. Surely, by now, they recognized you. Your hood couldn't keep your secret forever. A flash of understanding flickered across their eyes, an exchange of glances and whispers, and your heart rate quickened.

"Volpe..." You swept your gaze to him, finding that he was already taking drinks from the bar tender.

"Your usual?" the barkeep asked, not at all nervous to see the infamous thief before him.

La Volpe gave a half-hearted nod and watched as the man sauntered away. "Pay them little attention," he replied without hardly giving you a glance. "If you acknowledge them then they will have reason to approach you."

You tilted your head, obscuring your face from everyone but the thief next to you. "Your usual? You come here often enough that a man knows your 'usual' meal?"

La Volpe turned in his seat just enough that his torso was facing you. "When you are well known as I am, it only takes a few visits for someone to remember your usual. You will leave behind such an impression that they will tell tales of your visit to anyone who will listen. They will emphasize on the smallest of details and spin lies to make you seem greater than life."

"Does this mean you didn't actually steal the Pope's jewels after all?" You grinned haughtily, catching him in his own web of tall tales.

He lifted his drink and peered at you from the corner of his eye. "What do you think?"

You took your time replying because La Volpe was a man who encouraged knowledge and wisdom rather than brashness and skill. "If I believe the story then I am a fool. If I don't believe the story then I will underestimate you and still be a fool." You looked at him with a challenging raised brow, examined whether or not he was pleased with your answer.

He swept his gaze across your form, lidded eyes resting on your mouth, then focused his attention on the rest of the tavern. "You are smarter than you let on. You should use it to your advantage."

You rolled your eyes and took your glass in hand, swallowing down the harshness of the ale in a few deep swallows. You could feel it burn and warm you from the inside out. It had been sometime since you had enjoyed a proper drink. "What advantage could that possibly give me? I know I'm clever. Why would I want others to know that?"

La Volpe chuckled, a gentle and warmhearted sound. "Perhaps your title truly fits you. You are far more clever than I initially gave you credit for."

You set down the ale and pushed it away, examining its amber color and the light foam at the surface. "Being clever is what kept me alive." Being clever kept you from ending up like your mother, a beggar and a prostitute. You swore you'd never end up like her. She had died clenching her purse, died for a few petty coins that a guard had tried to pry away from her one night in some dimly lit alley.

"Being clever is what kept your former self alive," he corrected, noting the sudden change in your expression. Of course he noticed. You'd been too consumed in your own thoughts to guard your expression. "You are not her. You are Il Corvo now. You will do more than just scrounge for your next meal. You will thrive."

You turned your attention on him but La Volpe was looking out across the busy crowd, carefully analyzing each person in the room. "In Florence?"

"It is where we will begin, yes." He sat a bit straighter when the barkeep returned, setting down plates filled with food. "Eat your fill. Tomorrow, we have much to do."


	3. The Fox Den

You cringed, your entire body going rigid at the terrible screech as it resounded through the back alley. The blade jutted forward out of his vambrace, the silver moonlight glinting off of it. You could just barely see the smears of dark red where the blood of your friends had dried upon it. "Little mouse," he hissed viciously into your ear. "I guess they didn't make it." He had just snatched hold of your collar and lifted your boneless body off of the ground when you heard his voice, the soothing sound of La Volpe calling out to you.

You inhaled sharply, eyes widening to take in the scene around you.

"Il Corvo," he whispered while combing back your hair. "It was a nightmare. Only a nightmare."

You blinked your eyes, realizing suddenly that you had been crying. Your eyes burned warmly and your skin was laced with a thin sheen of sweat. Your heart was leaping, racing with the intense warning that something dangerous was going to happen. You loosened your throttling hold from around the sheets, shaking away the quivering remnants of fear. "A nightmare," you consoled.

La Volpe stroked your hair once more, his fingertips lingering on your cheek before finally pulling away. "It will be morning soon. We should grab our things and head to the stables." He rose to his feet and moved to the other side of the room.

You silently sat up and secured your weapons. You joined La Volpe out onto the early morning city streets, a chill clinging to your skin. The sun was barely a sliver over the horizon when you reached the stables. You took the horse's reigns without complaint and awkwardly pulled yourself into its saddle. You followed the slow stroll of his horse through the countryside, never veering from the beaten path. It hadn't occurred to you that your silence was unsettling, not until the fox looked over his shoulder at you for the tenth time since leaving.

You sighed heavily, shifting in the hard saddle. "What, Volpe? Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

His spine straightened. "You haven't spoken since this morning."

Since the nightmare, you wanted to correct. "I was tired and sleepy."

He slowed his horse to a trot, turning slightly in his saddle to glare at you. "You are not tired and sleepy as of now."

"Oh?" You huffed, tossing your attention to every little thing that passed. "You are right. How dare I be so silent upon such a lovely day as this. Ah, look there, it is a cow. A fine creature, wouldn't you agree? It is swollen and round and those spots... ugh, they are gorgeous. Don't even get me started with that cow over there."

La Volpe groaned as he looked out over the road, noting that it was going to be a long journey. "Fine, I take back what I said."

"Take it back? How could I not boast about all the glorious things this world is filled with. Such as this horse. My what a fine horse. Smells awful. And this ungodly heat. Why is it so hot out today? The sun is so bright and unnecessarily warm." You squinted your eyes up at it for effect, hissing and moaning. "Why didn't we leave at night? It would have been cooler then. We should have definitely left at night."

La Volpe heaved out a heavier sigh. "I think I preferred it when it was quiet..."

"I was only making a suggestion for... future purposes. And perhaps a carriage, as well. These horses really do smell." You heaved out your own sigh, dramatically wiping the back of your hand against your forehead to wipe away the sweat. "Why is it so hot outside?"

"Because it is noon!" La Volpe strangled the reins of his horse. "Il Corvo," he pleaded with a resigned sigh.

You decided to keep talking endlessly about the landscape, focusing on the smallest of details, and commenting endlessly about how you'd always wanted to travel. You never stopped talking, even when Volpe would groan or pinch the bridge of his nose. You weren't doing it just for the sole purpose of pestering him into a fury, although it was how it began. You were talking endlessly to keep your mind busy. You needed to think about anything so long as it wasn't about the nightmare or the way your friends had been brutally murdered in an alleyway.

They would never get a proper funeral. Their names would be forgotten by nearly everyone who had known them.

"Finally," muttered the fox, the large city coming into view over the hill.

You hadn't been to Florence in years. You'd gone there on a quick visit once with an acquaintance. The whole event had gone terribly wrong. You ended up losing the stolen haul and since you couldn't memorize the streets quickly enough, you ended up on the wrong side of the city. And by wrong side, mostly the part where all the guards hung out. By the time you escaped the onslaught, you slept in some broken down inn on the edge of the city that, inadvertently, stole all of your gear during the night. Which, for you, wasn't all that cheap to replace.

But you were certain that La Volpe was far more prepared for whatever was going to happen. He, no doubt, had been to Florence on multiple occasions. Someone like him with a well regarded reputation must be more knowledgeable of how an operation should run. You hated to admit it but you trusted him more than you should have. You also hated to admit that La Volpe was your best chance at becoming something more than just a petty and hungry thief.

The horses trotted the last of the way, just as relieved the journey was over and their thirst could be quenched.

"We will stay with Leonardo da Vinci." La Volpe left the horses with the stable master, motioning you to quickly follow behind. "He is a friend of mine here in Florence. Someone I trust dearly. He will let us stay with him for some time before I get settled in."

"Settled in?" You quickened your pace until you were walking leisurely next to him. "You are remaining in Florence?"

"There is much work for me to do but yes. I shall remain here." He tucked his hands behind his back, eyes darting about the streets as he searched the shadows. The sunset certainly made quite a few of them. "I hope to establish a thieves guild here. And perhaps, make this place my home."

"And shall I be the first in your little guild?" You watched the marketplace empty of the last of the merchants, stores and stalls being either locked up or taken down for the night.

"No." La Volpe stopped before one of the buildings, a dark brown door with a saintly woman carved upon it. He faced you, placed all of his attention onto you. "You, Il Corvo, shall be my protege."

You analyzed his demeanor, reflecting his confidence and determination in your own. La Volpe knocked on the door, finally prying his gaze away from you when it opened. The young man brightened at the sight of the fox, a smile spreading widely across his face and his arms opened into a hug.

"Leonardo." La Volpe returned the hug, a few strong pats on the back.

"La Volpe. Please, come in, come in." Even his voice was cheerful, his words as light as air and as sweet as spring. He stepped into the home with a wave of his hand, motioning the two of you to follow behind him. "I'm so glad that you made it here safely."

"As am I." He strolled through the home as if it were his own.

You shut the door softly behind you, glancing about at every corner and at every painting that cluttered the walls. Many were unfinished, a few of them roughly sketched out with not a drop of paint. "You are an artist?"

"Of sorts. I believe that I am more rather an innovative sort." He pulled out two of the chairs at the long and worn dining table. "Please, sit. I will fetch something for us to eat and drink."

La Volpe gave a bow of his head. "Thank you. We rode all day to get here. It was... a quiet ride."

You almost snorted at his lie. "He may need quite a few drinks to recover from that 'quiet' ride." You took a seat in one of the chairs, watching as Leonardo returned with a plate of meats and cheeses, a bottle of wine tucked beneath his arm.

Leonardo was unwavered, his smile still strong and his words still as light-hearted and lovely. "Indeed. I must hear of your travels. It has been nearly half a year since last we spoke." He set down the items onto the table and uncorked the wine. "I heard mention that you went further up north, passing through my hometown."

"Venice has changed little," he replied.

You eagerly took the glass he poured for you, knocking back the first large swallow.

"It is wine," chided La Volpe. "At least make an attempt to savor it."

"Oh, of course, Mentor." You gave him a wink before taking another large mouthful. You swished it around before swallowing it. "Like that? Or do I need guidance in drinking, as well?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head tenderly. "Leonardo, meet my protege, Il Corvo." He tipped his glass at you then swirled the dark red liquid around with a few turns of his wrist.

"A protege?" Leonardo sounded truly interested in the matter as he took a seat at the table. "That seems commendable of you, La Volpe, if your intentions are true."

"Commendable?" You took one of the cheeses and took a bite of its sharp, rich flavors. "He's a thief. How commendable can he be?"

La Volpe cleared his throat just before Leonardo could make a reply. "I do believe our journey here has left us rather worn out." He set down his empty glass and rose to his feet, his attention resting on you to follow suit.

You rolled your eyes to Leonardo. "Apparently, as a protege, I now have a bed time."

"You are still very young." He grabbed hold of your arm and tugged you up onto your feet. "You need your sleep, Il Corvo."

You huffed, jerking your arm away but standing up all the same. "There's only a five years difference between us." You tossed a hand towards the chuckling artist. "Leonardo can't be that much older than I. You aren't sending him to bed."

La Volpe stepped behind you, his large hands encompassing your hips. "We are in his home." His mouth pressed against your ear as his hot breath moistened it with each word, voice low and rough. "Upstairs, Il Corvo, then we can... talk."

"Fine, fine." Your teeth took hold of the corner of your mouth, rolling it sharply between your canines as you slowly stepped forward. "Good night, Leonardo." His warmth vanished when you reached the base of the stairs.

"Ah. Good night." Leonardo stood up and gave a small bow. "To the both of you."

"Thank you, again, my friend. For allowing us to stay here in your home." La Volpe pressed his fingers to his own chest. "We will have a place by tomorrow, I hope."

He patted a hand onto the fox's shoulder. "It is my pleasure to have you here, La Volpe. Stay for as long as you need."

He stepped away from him, another small bow of his head, before linking his arm with yours and dragging you up to the second floor. He was quiet even after stepping into the bedroom and sliding the door closed behind him. He worked on the fastens of his cape, slipping it off of his shoulders and tossing it across the back of a chair.

"We aren't sleeping in here together, are we?" You sashayed across the small expanse of the room towards the single bed. You turned around, another snarky comment on the tip of your tongue, when La Volpe's mouth was on yours. His body was rigid against you, pressed firmly and arms encasing, but rigid with uncertainty. His nose bumped awkwardly into yours as he tilted his head in the other direction, lips tugging out another kiss and moan.

He took a step back, eyes lingering on your mouth. "You have done nothing but tease me for days." He clenched his eyes closed and rolled his bottom lip across his tongue. "Isn't this what you want?"

"Well, it's..." You stepped back until the edge of the bed brushed across your thighs. You sat down and enjoyed the full body view of the tense fox, his hands shaking away the anxiety. "I would certainly like to start something with you. Something..." You watched your fingers fiddle with the bedclothes, the cloth rubbing beneath your touch.

"I am your mentor..." He tried to argue, tried to make it sound like a legitimate reason but his words rang hollow. He was stating them mostly for himself, anyway.

You lifted your chin. "Then teach me."

He snapped his gaze to you, hardly believing what he heard. "What?"

You lifted up your shoulder. "Someone has to teach me. Why not you?"

His brows creased together, his eyes flitting away to take in the room's furniture. "I am not quite certain... what you're suggesting."

You leaned forward, fingers clutching the edge of the bed like a bird of prey before the great leap. "You would be my first."

He opened his mouth to speak but the words never made it. He turned to the chair with his cloak, smoothing away any wrinkles before laying out his daggers into the seat.

"Very well." You fell back against the bed, glaring up at the ceiling above with a heavy sigh. He had kissed you which told you clearly that he had enjoyed your teasing. He wasn't entirely disagreeable with the whole idea. "I've given you all the cards. It's your choice to make the next move."

"I shouldn't." But La Volpe had already moved to your side, his fingers wrapping around your thighs as he leaned over you, his warmth pressed against your body. Even through your clothes you could feel his palms rubbing back and forth. His mouth dipped to the curve of your neck, another muttered, "I shouldn't."

"Then don't," you replied under your breath, your heart jolting as his thumb brushed upwards beneath the cloth of your shirt, slipping under the rim of your breeches. You grabbed hold of his hand, a sudden burst of nervousness that locked your gaze with his.

La Volpe stared intensely as the both of you caught your breath. He pulled away from you and straightened his spine, thoughts elsewhere as he moved about the room to the writing desk. "Perhaps another night. We have your training to keep us busy."

You sank your teeth into your inner cheek. La Volpe was charming, attractive, and intelligent. You couldn't deny that you were interested in him. He, however, must have thought your flirtations had been a joke after that uncertain reaction. "Perhaps..." You sat up and pulled the blanket down over the bed. You patted your feathered pillow until it was plush enough for you. "Tomorrow night?" You kicked off your boots and shimmied out of your hooded cloak and vest.

He stood over the writing desk, scratching down a message with a pen. "You think yourself truly ready?"

You laid down in the cold bed, the absence of warmth evident even through the layers of your remaining clothes. Your fingers focused on the details sewn into the top outermost blanket, formulating what sentence would explain things best, what sentence might convince La Volpe not to turn you away.

He set down the pen and sighed heavily. "In the morning there is somewhere I must go. I need you to stay here with Leonardo. It would be best if you didn't leave this house until my return."

You knew he was changing the subject again. He was a professional at trying to change subjects. You would have to be a professional at redirecting him. "Will you atleast sleep in here? I am in a strange city sleeping in a strange house... How frightened I must be."

He rolled his eyes closed but his lips told you he had found your request endearing. La Volpe focused on unbuttoning his vest as he stated firmly, "No touching. No whispered innuendos. You're making this difficult as it is."

"Fine." You rolled over onto your side, putting your back to him which left you vulnerable. If it had been anyone else, you wouldn't have been able to. You wouldn't even have been able to close your eyes. "No more flirting from this moment onward. Deal?"

His weight shifted the bed, the blankets ruffled until he was lying behind you. His reply was barely audible, perhaps even reluctant, "Deal."

~:~

When you awoke, La Volpe had already left. His spot in the bed was lukewarm which told you that he'd only just left some short while ago. You gathered your pillow closer, curling up towards the minor warmth that remained. La Volpe was adamant on keeping things between the two of you professional. Although, truth be told, you didn't understand his reasoning. He kept using the label "mentor" like a shield. He stated the word with a little too much endearment. You didn't quite understand what he meant by it.

You remembered vaguely the conversation with Leonardo. He seemed to know La Volpe better than most. The two of them were close friends or at least as close as someone might get with the elusive fox.

You forced yourself out of bed. You gathered your boots and clothes, shrugging into them before heading downstairs to seek out Leonardo. You found him scribbling away in a notebook, thoughts fumbling softly off of his lips.

You tried to not frighten the poor man, your steps most likely too silent for his ears. Sometimes you were quieter than you realized and unnerved the acquaintances you had spent time with. You shuffled your feet when you reached the last step. "Good morning, Leonardo."

He jolted away from his notebook, startled at first but then his typical countenance returned. He smiled widely, eyes glistening with delight. "Il Corvo. I was just considering a few ideas that I thought of last night."

"Oh?" You sat down gingerly onto the edge of the dining table, snatching up one of the cheeses that remained from the plate. "What sort of idea?"

Leonardo was brimming with energy and he was just about ready to spew it out all over the place when a soft knock came upon the door. Your body went rigid as the artist waved his hands. "A moment, Il Corvo. I believe it is one of my patrons."

You hurried up the stairs as Leonardo headed for the door. Patrons, you considered, imagining what this person might look like. Wealthy, rich, covered in the finest clothes and pocketing the shiniest of gold. It was easy climbing out of the window and up onto the glistening terracotta rooftop, a sleek and quiet shadow that peered over the edge.

"Hello Leonardo." She was older sounding, perhaps late thirties or early forties, and her words were prominent and well spoken.

Leonardo's heart warming voice was familiar to you even before he stepped out of the doorway to greet them, "Madonna Maria."

"This is my son Ezio." She waved to the younger man next to her, perhaps around your age.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Leonardo gave a respectful bow.

Ezio, with hand to his heart, bowed in return. "The honor is mine."

"Let me go and fetch the paintings. I'll be right back." He hurried inside, no doubt as eager as a young child presenting something to his mother.

Madonna Maria waved her hand towards where Leonardo had been standing. "He's very talented." You looked at them closer, noting that they were indeed well off money-wise. They were both wearing simple styled clothes but lavish cloth, the Madonna enjoying her riches more than her son. He seemed more keen on looking suave rather than pompous.

"I guess." He gave a meager shrug, hardly caring for the conversation.

"Self expression is vital to understanding and enjoying life." She stepped towards him, nearly placed her hands upon him. "You should find an outlet."

"I have plenty of outlets." He threw his hands up, another shrug, as if the conversation occurred on many occasions.

She shook an irritated hand into the air, fingers pinched together. "I meant besides vaginas."

You nearly choked on your gasped laugh.

Ezio's eyes widened a bit, voice bitter but embarrassed, "Mother!"

Leonardo finally stepped out, crate of cluttered painting in his arms. "Back to your house then?"

"Yes, yes" Maria's smile returned as if the lecture had never happened. "Ezio, help Leonardo, will you?" She walked away into the streets, stopping long enough for Ezio to take the crate into his arms.

Leonardo directed his attentions to the young man walking next to him. "So, Ezio, what do you do?"

Maria was more than eager to boast about her family, to speak highly of her son, "He's been working for his father."

You followed them across the rooftops with the greatest of ease, hardly causing alarm to those bustling below. Very few people ever looked up and even fewer guards. You surveyed each area cautiously for archers posted on nearby rooftops, avoiding their attentions by hiding behind chimneys and garden boxes.

"Ah. So, you are to be a banker?"

"For now." Ezio hardly seemed pleased about it. And even less delighted when he said, "And you? Art, was it?"

Leonardo was unphased, speaking calmly and rather wisely, "Truth be told, it's been difficult to settle. Painting is nice. But I often feel like my work lacks... I don't know. Purpose. Does that make sense?"

"I did not think thieves spied on people."

You spun around on your heel, coming face to face with La Volpe, a cocky smirk upon your lips. "Of course we do. It's in my nature to hunt. He would make a fine target, would he not? Young, naive... And rich."

"He would..." La Volpe stepped forward beside you, feet on the edge of the roof. "His father... is an acquaintance of mine. I would prefer him to not be your target."

You were almost tempted to lean towards him, tempted to make some low whispered reply but you remembered his request in time. La Volpe didn't want flirting. You would abide by his wishes. "You have friends who are nobles?"

He faced you, the edges of his lips twitching. "What makes you think he is a noble?"

You took down a deep breath, eyes rolling out towards their figures in the distance. "You think commoners spend their last coin on buying some pretty painting?"

La Volpe gave a pleased nod and leaned forward until there was very little space between the two of you. His fingers flitted along the curve of your waist and outlined the bone of your spine. "I thought I asked you to remain inside while I was gone."

You tilted your head and chin until your breath was upon his lips. "I grew bored waiting. Besides, I'm a crow not a dog. I don't follow orders..." You grinned as your hands moved upwards across his chest. "And neither do you, it would seem. We made a deal not to flirt, did we not?"

He half-heartedly nodded before stepping away. He would have kissed you had you not stopped him. "Come. I have found us a place to call our own."

You followed slowly behind him, noting the difference in his stance. "For now," you joked.

La Volpe tucked his hands behind his back when he reached the other side of the building's roof. He glanced over his shoulder, words forming but he never spoke them. He leapt down into the alley below and you mirrored his movements through the immense labyrinth of Florence.

He finally stopped upon entering the courtyard of an estate in the farthest corner of the city. It was a small estate but still glorious all the same, a large structure with a garden as a courtyard. The guards would never think it was a front for a guild of thieves.

La Volpe softly pushed back his hood. "This will be home," he proudly stated before turning the green of his eyes to you. "What do you think?"

You raised a brow at him, knowing that he was all too pleased with the location. "It is... extravagant."

Something flickered across his face as he looked upon the building's architecture. He wasn't just proud of his accomplishment. It was as if La Volpe was returning to a home that he had lost years ago. He pried his attention away from the structures to you, a smile blooming to life. "Shall I give you the tour?"

You spun on your heels, stepping away from him but being certain the tips of your fingers touched his chest. "I'd rather you showed me to my room instead."

"I thought we agreed upon--"

"You started it." You leaned forward, words a soft and delicate whisper, "You flirted with me on the roof. Our deal is no longer valid." You snatched up both of his hands, pulling him towards the tall building.

La Volpe's brows bent beneath the weight of worry. He cast his attention off towards the plants that grew up around the empty fountain. "I simply don't want you to regret this."

"I won't." You grinned, rolling your eyes at the concerned fox. "I've taken care of myself most of my life. I think I can decide if I want this or not."

He shook his head and rolled his bottom lip against his teeth. "Why me? What have I done to peak your interest this much?"

You let his hands fall away, disappointed to have lost his touch. "Most people would have let me die in that alley--"

"You do not have to repay me for that."

"No." You stepped forward with a desperate need for him to listen. "It's not just then that you helped me. You're still helping me. You're a good person."

He tilted his head downward, vision burrowing into the cracks along the cobblestone. There was something in his eyes and expression that told you he was keeping a piece of information from you. He was reluctant with you because of whatever plagued him.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Yes." He clenched his eyes closed. "A secret you are not yet ready to hear."

You splayed your hands against his chest, leaning into him to comfort not only him but yourself. "I don't completely trust you. I don't completely trust anyone. I'm aware you have secrets. I've always been aware of that. Keep your secrets."

He finally dared to look at you. "You think so highly of me. Is it because I'm 'La Volpe'... some tall tale hero?"

You grinned widely, a hand patting against his cheek. "You think too much." Your fingers combed through the short tufts of his hair, tucking them behind his ear. "You're intelligent and worldly. Is it so hard for you to believe that I might actually be interested in you and nothing more?"

La Volpe stiffly leaned forward, his lips quivering as they parted. He swallowed his pulse just before the kiss and barely brushed his hands over your shoulders and down your arms. The kiss ended quickly, the fox turning away abruptly. He jerked the hood of his cloak back up, not bothering to turn his attention back to you. "You don't fully know what you're doing--"

"I'm not a child, Volpe! I haven't been a child since I was... Never. I've never been a child. That was stolen from me." You laughed bitterly, digging your fingernails into your palm. "No, that's a lie as well. You can't steal what was never there."

'You are Il Corvo now." He forced himself to stand taller and his shoulders to lower. "And I am your Mentor."

"Don't be my mentor." Your brows pinched together. "Be a thief helping a fellow thief."

He faced you now, a balled fist waving before him as if he were strangling the life out of his words. "I do not want you to be a thief. I am training you to..." He shook his head and rolled his eyes closed.

"What?" You took a furious step forward. "You're training me to what?"

"You want me to treat you as my equal?" He tilted his head just enough that the light hit his narrowed eyes, the taut corners of his mouth. "Come with me and I will explain to you what we are."


	4. The Crow's Qualms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> La Volpe continues to slowly reveal information. However, Assassins and Templars still mean so little to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does contain the dubious consent portion. I made sure it was short but it was still awkward to write and I'm sure it'll be awkward to read. Also, I've decided this will be five chapters long leading into the "main story" in the series. We'll finally meet Ezio soon enough!

La Volpe brought you to the richer district of Florence. The homes beneath your feet were filled with valuables and wealthy nobles. Everything around was lavish and pristine, clearly well taken care of by the nobles who owned it, paying the working class a low wage to maintain their property. Of course they did. They wanted the world to see how glorious they were.

He stepped to the edge of the roof and peered down at the courtyard below. You joined him, catching sight of the youth from earlier. Ezio, you recalled, analyzing the way he spoke with the woman before him. She was younger and crying, sleek tears moistening her cheeks.

"The aristocrats from before..." You rose a brow at him, kneeling down for a closer look. She was his sister from what you could determine and crying over a boy who broke her heart. “How cheery…”

"Giovanni Auditore." La Volpe paced away, hands clutched tightly behind his back. "He is a banker for the city but... he has also secretly done things to help those less fortunate."

You rolled your eyes and stood up, glowering down at the scene below. "He donated a few pathetic coins, is that it?"

"No." The fox flicked you a quick glance. "He takes the life of those who abuse their power. He protects those who cannot protect themselves. He is a... "vigilante". Just as I am. Just as you will be."

"A vigilante?" You stepped back from the ledge and further away from La Volpe. "You want me to kill people?"

"To protect." La Volpe turned his entire body to you, marching forward with purpose and determination. "He will take lives. We will gather information, sell and buy secrets." His fingertips touched the belts around your waist, caressing as he circled around you. "If lives are taken to protect the lives of others... then it is what must be done."

"A vigilante, then..." You leaned back into his warmth, his arms enveloping you as he left a ghostly kiss upon your neck. To protect those who could not protect themselves. To protect children and beggars, to protect the hungry and the cold... Before you would have never cared for such things. You were a firm believer that to survive people needed to take care of themselves. But La Volpe made you want to be a better kind of person. You wanted to strive to create a better world.

"Do you understand now?" His hold tightened, engulfing you in the rich scents of sage and rosemary, the underlying sweetness of citrus. "I am guiding you towards a greater path."

"Then train me." You twisted in his arms, turning until you could meet his half-lidded gaze. "But train me as an equal. I can hold my own."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I am aware." His head tilted, mouth dipping until the softness of his lips brushed across yours. "If this is what you truly want..."

You slipped your eyes closed, worn from the long journey and from the night-haunting events. You could have nearly melted in his hold and forgot all about the rest of the world. "It is."

His lips finally settled on yours, the kiss ending quickly, leaving a subtle tingle. “Then let us begin. We need to convince others to join us. To do so… we must prove our worth.” La Volpe stepped back and strolled across the ceramic rooftops with ease.

“Surely your title will be enough to rally them.” You leapt down onto the next roof and further into the alley below where La Volpe waited.

“A title will allow intrigue but it will not inspire.” He tucked his hands behind his back. He began the slow waltz through alleys and streets back towards home, continuing another of his lectures. “I will perform tasks around the city, building influence. You. You shall train. You must learn to fight and, better yet, learn to disappear.”

He led the way into the courtyard, his steps slowing to a stroll as he pushed open one of the many doors. “An office space, for when we must convene with others in the city.”

“Convene with thieves and vigilantes?” You chuckled under your breath. “And what will those meetings entail? Who can drink down the most wine?”

La Volpe gave you a serious look, not at all amused at your blatant remark. “Within this city there are those who suffer and there are those who step on the suffering to survive. We must assure safety and peace to all.”

You raised a challenging brow. “Safety and peace to all… What a silly dream you have, Volpe. Shall I also prepare to turn rocks into gold? To fill the pockets of every beggar?”

“We are not the only ones who will do this.” He placed his hands down onto your arms, being sure that your attention was well placed on him before speaking. “There are others within the city, working in the shadows to ensure the protection of others… There also Templars… Ones who would rather shackle us all.”

“Templars?” You watched the unwavering determination in his eyes, as if what he spoke to you were something that had long ago become his life’s goal.

“We shall speak more of it all tomorrow. For now, we train.”

~:~

Training had been more intense than you expected, countless days melting into one. You had thought perhaps pickpocketing or even sneaking but, no, La Volpe tossed you straight into the sparring ring. He’d bested you in nearly every match with far too much graceful ease, each session growing more intense than the next.

This evening was no different. He had your daggers twisted out of your hands countless times until your anger took precedent. You often found yourself recklessly lunging at him, knocking him down and engaging in a fist fight. He had bested you in that, as well.

“Brutish,” he argued. “That won’t work in a fight with a well armored guard.”

You spat blood at his feet, rolling the gash on your lips along your tongue. “It is a good thing I would never stick around to fight with one.”

He argued, tossed around some lecture but you weren’t listening anymore. You were more determined to regain a sense of honor or to at least save yourself from the next beating. You focused your senses, watching in vain as La Volpe paced a circle around you. You were patient as your eyes slipped closed, his energy pulsing brightly behind you as he readied for the attack. He must have seen your eyes closed and gained too much confidence. He lunged forward but your reflexes struck and blocked the attack, knocking the wind out of him.

You opened your eyes and met his narrowed gaze.

La Volpe eyed his weapon then you. “Il Corvo… How did you manage that?”

The corner of your lip twitched. You shoved away from him and skulked out of the ring. “I am tired. And I need a bath.”

“Il Corvo.” He cautiously followed you towards the main section of the estate. “Explain.”

“I don’t know, Volpe.” You shouted halfheartedly over your shoulder. “Nor do I care. I am too tired to think of such things.”

“You blocked my attack before I even knew where I was aiming.” His steps quickened when you entered through the doorway, keeping in pace with your cocky stroll.

You shrugged a shoulder then was pulled to a stop as Volpe grabbed your elbow. You nearly rolled your eyes at his pestering. “I concentrated, that is all. Now, I’ve a busted lip and a few scrapes that need my attention.”

He gave a slight grin and the mild shake of his head. “Very well. Let me tend to what I can. I am, afterall, the reason you have them.” He stepped ahead of you and walked the halls towards the bedrooms.

You joined him, sitting yourself before the unlit fireplace. You leaned forward, elbows digging into your legs as you stared into the stonework that decorated the mantle and chimney. “You said there were other vigilantes.”

Volpe placed himself in the chair across from you and set down the bowl of water. He clutched the rag, dampening it ever so slightly. “They belong to an order of Assassins.” His eyes lingered with yours before focusing on your lips. He pressed the cloth there, carefully dabbing away the blood and dirt.

You spoke while moving your lips as little as possible. “These Assassins… You are one of them?”

He dunked the rag into the cold water, rinsing away the rusty red grime. “Much of what I have already taught you is part of their creed.” He brushed the cloth across your temple, the raw wound causing your brows to pinch. “Forgive me, Il Corvo. But these lessons will better you for the upcoming mission.”

You jolted with interest, finally getting the opportunity to actually use your skills. “Which is?”

He chuckled and ducked his attention towards the bowl of water. “We will need to break into the home of a well guarded individual and obtain an item they’ve horded.”

You grinned, a gesture torn between prospect and jesting. “And sell it?”

He nearly groaned with disapproval. “No. It must be returned to the Order.”

“Of Assassins…” You rolled your eyes, throwing yourself back in your chair. “It might be worth something. Surely we could have it appraised.”

“It is dangerous in the wrong hands.” He dropped the cloth into the water and sighed. “A discussion for another time. It is late and I must leave in the morning.” He reached a hand out, fingertips careening over your knee, his gaze unable to meet yours. “I am truly sorry for the cuts and scrapes.”

“Scars I can boast about at the pub later.” You grinned haughtily when he peered up at your through his lashes.

His lips parted, hand squeezing your knee as he searched for words.

You tilted your head, smirking at him whilst slightly half-lidded. “Something on your mind, fox?”

La Volpe clenched his teeth and swallowed painfully. He gave a meager shake of his head and swept his vision towards the bucket of water. “No. I should--”

“Stay.” You moved to the edge of your chair and waited for his guidance. “Teach me what you know.”

“Teach you?” His eyes swept up to meet yours, narrowing as they tried to decipher your expression. “I do not understand you… This is not something that can be simply taught… You show intrigue but not lust.”

“Lust?” You raised a brow and leaned closer. “And what does lust look like to you?”

La Volpe pressed his elbows into his thighs, meeting you in the middle. “A passion. A need.” His gaze moved about your features as if he were searching for it. “You are certain about this? You hesitated last time.”

You lifted a shoulder. “Hesitation, yes. But not complete distaste.” You dropped your voice down to a whisper. “It is you who has not been certain. You hold the cards, Volpe. Not I.”

His words were just as soft as yours, “It may not be altogether comfortable for you. I must admit that your teasing has made it difficult for me to resist.”

“Then don’t.” You grinned ever so slightly, your hands finally daring to gather hold of his.

He leaned forward and captured your mouth beneath his. It was a tender kiss with gentle nipping teeth. He moved closer and in turn deepened the kiss, tongue sweeping across yours and leaving behind the tartness of wine. He gathered you up into his arms, pulled you onto to your feet and shuffled you backwards through the room.

You enjoyed the kiss, delighted in the gentleness of it, but your body tensed as his hands fumbled with the fastenings of your belts and tunic. Your brows pinched, brain concentrating on the way his lips delved downwards across the curve of your neck. You took down a sharp breath as the warmth of your attire was peeled away. Air knotted in your lungs as your clothes fell in a pile on the floor.

Volpe stilled, hand hovering over your bare waist. “Il Corvo?”

You laughed nervously, your eyes locked onto the ceiling above as you stood exposed before him. “Volpe?”

He eased you down onto the edge of the bed, eyes roving over your expression as he settled another kiss onto your lips. He seemed more hesitant now, allowing you to object. When you made no response, he crawled forward until your spine was pressed into the bed, resting his weight fully ontop of you. The texture of his tunic and the cold leather of his belt pressed against your skin, your muscles clenching with uncertainty.

He pressed his mouth to your ear, breath rapid and warm. “Something wrong?”

You listened to your breathing, to your heart hammering. He was gentle and tender but you felt awkward and unpracticed. He had stated that the first time would be uncomfortable… But this seemed different. La Volpe was alluring and intelligent, kind hearted and generous, and you had been attracted to him. Or so you thought. Something didn’t quite feel right about it but you stayed your tongue. You mustered your confidence, stating the words without reluctance, “No, I’m alright.”

He waited another moment before peppering kisses along your neck, moving them across your exposed shoulder. He lifted up long enough to divest himself of his own clothes, moving slowly almost cautiously before returning his efforts to you. His hands moved roughly down your back, along your thighs to the bend of your knees.

You drew in your bottom lip, sinking your teeth into the open gash, focusing on the pinch of pain as his fingers made their way over your hip towards the heat between your thighs. Your body responded in kind to the teasing of his fingers against your clit but your mind reeled, cringed away from the rhythmic sliding of digits slipping into your inner walls.

Volpe’s breathing increased and his breath tangled itself along your neck. He shifted his hips against yours, bone and skin grinding as the searing tip of his length dipped towards your opening. He panted it, murmured it like a desperate plea, “Il Corvo.”

But desperate or not, you couldn’t respond in kind. You felt strange… Uncertain. You memorised the ceiling above, all of the details along its edge until it was over. You still felt the tension in your muscles, in the rigidness of your breathing, as he pressed a chaste kiss against your cheek. You swallowed the thickening lump that had rooted itself in your throat.

His voice seemed strained, a harsh whisper. “Did I hurt you?”

You took your time replying which prompted him to lift his head. “No. No, you didn’t.”

He moved his weight and pressed it against your side. “Something is wrong.” He cupped his hand on your cheek, turning your head until you looked at him. “I apologise. The first time is never quite as pleasant…”

You expertly pulled out your most convincing smile, a trained response. “Sleep will do me good. We’ve a great deal to do in the morning, remember?”

He averted his attention but nodded all the same. “I will go alone tomorrow.” La Volpe lifted off of the bed and tugged down the covers. “You should recover from training. We will have to begin again upon my return.”

You lingered where you were, unwilling to move just yet. “And where will you be going exactly?”

He gave a deep throated chuckle. “Rest, Il Corvo.” He sat down on the bed above your crown, his hand lifted your chin until you peered up at him. “Talk to me. What is it?” He narrowed his eyes as if daring you to try and lie. “Something is wrong.”

You rolled your eyes shut. “It was... uncomfortable.”

His thumb brushed across your chin and followed the smooth bone of your jaw. “Next time it may be better. We can wait a little while before we try again.”

You stiffly sat up, pulling away from the warmth of his touch. “Perhaps.” You pulled down the covers on your half of the bed, sliding down beneath them, your back pressed safely into the mattress.

La Volpe quietly followed suit. You knew he was struggling to make a comforting reply, to add something that might settle your fears but… the words never reached your ears. He curled up onto his side, reached a hand towards yours but let it fall into the space between the both of you.


	5. A Wolf at the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have proven yourself to La Volpe and thus to his Assassins. But you learn too much too quickly and things do not end well for you.

La Volpe left early that morning, before the sun even rose. He had been deathly quiet as he slipped out of the room. But you had found it difficult to sleep last night, waking rather easily when he moved about the room to gather his things. It was minutes or perhaps hours later when you finally got up. You pulled on your clothes, tossed the cape over your shoulders, and headed out to the opening markets, eager to keep your mind busy.

You spent most of the day exploring, climbing across buildings and memorizing the various streets. You stole food here and there, sharing a bit of it with passing street urchins. You slunk through the marketplace, admiring the merchandise when you caught sight of the youth from the Auditore family. He was casually strolling through vendors with another at his side, their laughs barely rising above the roar of the merchants.

You slyly made your way closer both out of curiosity and greed. Your old habit of picking pockets made your fingers twitch. Surely they wouldn’t notice you swiping a few coins. And it wasn’t like you truly needed the gold. It was more a test of your abilities to be fair. And you truly did enjoy testing yourself.

But you never reached them, the corner of your eyes catching sight of white and red robes. An unsettling shiver ran down your spine, a sickness pooling in your gut. You could remember clearly that back alley where your friends had died, their blood staining the earth with a glistening black river. You remembered how vicious they had been to you. They had left you beaten and half dead.

You clenched your teeth and followed after him. You made sure you kept your distance, always putting something between yourself and the robed stranger. But he must have sensed you, something causing him to halt and peer over his shoulder. He stared into the moving crowd of people, searching for whatever it was that unnerved him. You waited around the corner, holding your breath until he continued on his way.

You were foolish in quickening your pace when he vanished completely from sight. You shoved your way through the cluster of people, searching for the white cowl and the belt of gathered weapons. His calloused and large hand slipped over your mouth, dragging you backwards into an alley.

He spoke calmly, not the slightest hint of anger, “Who are you?” His hand moved to your throat, clutching it just enough to remind you that you were a prisoner.

“A thief,” you spat, fingers carefully making their way to the dagger at your hip.

He shoved you away before you could make an attack. He looked over your form with mild interest. “Do not follow me again, thief.” He stepped towards the mouth of the alley. “If you do, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“Not unless I kill you first.” You lifted your chin. You remained unflinching when he glowered over his shoulder at you, the hood keeping most of his face from view. “How much coin do you have? Perhaps I am desperate for my next meal.”

He remained neutral, only the slightest touch of irritation in his words, “And perhaps I have the need to break the legs of an arrogant brigand.” He sauntered back into the bustle of people, all too easily melting away from view.

You tightened your hands into fists. Training. You would need more training. And then, when you could, you would hunt him down and others like him. You would find every single one of them and enact revenge for the deaths of your friends. They deserved that much. They deserved so much more than choking on their own blood.

You raced across rooftops and took the quickest route home. You waited impatiently for La Volpe to return. You paced the courtyard and spun the hilt of your daggers, keeping your fingers nimble as you waited for the long evening of training. It felt as if the fox would never return and when you finally sensed him stepping through the open gates you glowered at him.

His brows arched beneath concern. “Il Corvo?”

You nearly growled it, your voice unrecognizable, “We were supposed to train.”

He lifted his hands a bit, a mild and reluctant surrender. “I was held up on another matter.”

“I can’t get better if you aren’t here.” You marched across the courtyard, leading the way to the sparring ring.

La Volpe grabbed your elbow and jerked you around. “You are angry. What happened?”

You jerked out of his hold and met his gaze with a fire swelling inside of you. “I’m tired of waiting. You said I was your protege. Start training me like one.”

He swept his eyes out over the estate as he analyzed your behavior, mulled over your words and actions. “Very well. I won’t hold back but neither should you. Whatever ability you used yesterday… you must use it again.”

You turned away from him and plodded to the ring. You would use everything against him until you surpassed him. You would learn what you could and, when he had nothing left to offer, you would learn from another. You would hunt those who had hurt you and the people you cared for.

~:~

Your entire world was made up of dirt and sweat, of parries and attacks, of metal and leather. You spent days in the sparring ring, hardly giving La Volpe the time to accomplish his other errands. He would disappear after training sessions, returning in early dawn to sleep before the training once again started.

Your ability, your senses, sharpened to a fine point. You knew La Volpe’s attacks before he had the opportunity to unleash them. You knew where he was throughout the house without even having to search. It took a bit of concentration but each time you used it, you could see clearer and for longer.

You’d surpassed him, bringing the clever fox down to his knee with a raised hand in submission. He gave a firm nod, thumb smearing the blood from his lips. He seemed to grimace as he spoke, “Tomorrow then. We shall infiltrate the mansion.” La volpe stood up and dusted himself off. “Security is at its highest now. Recent events amongst the city have caused… turmoil. You must be ready.”

“I am.” You noticed how bitter your words sounded and you tried desperately to soften them. You smoothed your expression, discarding the remnants of anger. “After we retrieve this item… I wish to leave.”

His eyes flickered, processing your words. “Leave?” He stepped forward and barely brushed fingertips over your hand. “The Assassins need someone with your skill… I--” He swallowed down what he truly wanted to speak. “There is a war and they need you.”

“The men who slaughtered my friends… They are still out there.” You took down a shuddering breath, irritated at how cold you sounded. “I’ve never even met these Assassins.”

“After our mission.” He slipped his fingers through yours, encouraging you to follow him towards the estate. “We shall meet with them to hand over the treasure.”

You lifted his hand, patting the smooth skin before pulling away from him. “I need some air. We can speak when I return home.”

“Wait a moment.” He reached out but grew weary, his hand falling back at his side. “There is something we’ve been avoiding.” He stepped towards you and waited to see if you would shuffle away. When you held your ground, his hands settled tenderly on either side of your face. “Something you’ve been avoiding…”

“I know.” You lowered your eyes, an uneasiness settling in your nerves. You’d avoided Volpe for some time, shy away from his caresses or gentle kisses. “I’m not ready. I need more time.”

“Since that night together you’ve…” He pressed his forehead against yours, tilting your head until your eyes finally looked into his. “It is natural to be nervous. It will be more enjoyable this time.”

A spark of irritation lit itself inside of you. Perhaps it was training or the impatience to finally begin your personal hunt but you had little empathy. “It isn’t nerves.”

His brows pinched. “Then what is it?”

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll return later.” You hurried away, quickening your steps the further you were away from him. You took easily to the shadows and further to the rooftops, scouring the vast city for something to occupy your time. You’d spent so much time exploring the city that you’d memorized most of it.

You chuckled when you caught sight of him, the same Auditore youth you’d first met weeks ago. He was standing beneath a window, vying for the attention of a woman who was glowering down at him. You watched as he climbed up the wall with a strange amount of ease. He slipped into the soft orange glow of the room and closed the window shut behind him.

You stepped away from the scene and slowly made your way back to the fox’s estate. You couldn’t explain to him your distaste for that night together. He seemed convinced that you were only nervous, that things would be better if only you would try again. But every time Volpe’s gentle caresses hinted at anything more you felt an uneasiness in your gut. You sought out another task, any small errand that would keep you busy, anything to avoid the prospect of sex.

You quietly snuck into the bedroom, toeing off your boots before padding over towards the bed. La Volpe appeared asleep, eyes closed but his breathing suggested your entrance hadn’t been quite as subtle as you hoped. You laid down on the edge of the bed and put your back to him.

It took you a moment to gather the courage and even longer to find the right words. “I don’t enjoy it. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Volpe sat up and rested his hand upon your arm. “I don’t understand your reluctance. A second try would prove my point.”

“I don’t think you understand. I hated it.” You wrapped your fingers tightly around the blanket, unable to turn over and look at him.

“I could stop by an apothecary.” His words were genuine, an attempt to sound modest and considerate. “Perhaps they will have something to help you, to make it more pleasurable.”

You rolled your eyes shut. “I don’t want to stop by an apothecary.”

He shook his head a bit and threw his attention across the room. “An aphrodisiac might make things easier for you. It was a simple suggestion.”

A tight ache crawled up your spine and settled into your shoulders. “No. A simple suggestion is accepting my choice.”

“There must be something wrong. It is human nature to have sex… To want it.” His tone was growing more aggravated by the minute, each word harshly spat, “There must be something wrong. A way to fix this.”

Your eyes widened, a pain sinking into your chest as you shot him a fierce glare. “You think there’s something wrong with me? That I’m broken?”

His breath was caught in his throat. He realized the mistake he had made too late. “Il Corvo, that is not what I meant…”

You painfully gasped, sitting up and tossing off the covers. “Is it so hard for you to accept that I don’t want to sleep with you?”

“Yes! It is hard to accept. Sex is part of normal life.” He lowered his head and gripped his hands together, trying to pull in his annoyance. “I just don’t understand. A doctor could at least give us answers.”

“I don’t need answers.” You slammed your hand onto the bed before getting to your feet, needing to put space between yourself and the fox. “I don’t crave sex. I was…” You groaned, throwing your hands into your hair. “I thought perhaps I did but now that I’ve experienced it…”

“You’ve experienced one night.” Volpe moved to your side of the bed and threw his legs over the edge. “Perhaps if I… tried a different position.”

You glared at him in shock. “Why is this so important to you?”

“I want only for you to enjoy yourself.” He looked up at you with pleading eyes. “If you are bored with me then say so.”

You raised a bitter brow, teeth grinding over each other. “Bored with you?”

He threw down open palms. “Why else would you be so reluctant to try again?”

You rubbed fingers across your temple and shuffled towards the door. “I need to be alone. Please.” He hadn’t hurried after you and that much you were thankful for. His words had hurt you more than all the bruises and broken bones you’d ever received combined, through brawls and scuffles and training alike.

~:~

La Volpe and you surveyed the massive structure. You easily found where security was weakest, peering through the walls towards the energies that pulsed inside. You also managed to find the owner of the home, his energy shining brightest than the others. But it was the treasure that caught your attention the most, its bulbous glow nestled neatly in the middle of the vast estate.

“The base of the building is too well guarded.” La Volpe knelt down next you, his eyes only able to see the barest of patrols along the perimeter. “Do you have a plan?”

You nudged your chin towards the window across the street. “That window. The patrols that pass by their leave a large opening for me to sneak in and grab what’s needed. I will have to go alone for this to work.”

He jolted his eyes to you, leaving them there to analyze your emotions. “There are too many guards inside--”

“I can do this.” You stood up and allowed your skills to armor you with confidence. You knew this task would be difficult but you could handle difficult. You could handle being patient, timing your actions at precisely the right moment. With your honed ability now at your disposal, it would be nearly impossible to mess up.

“Signal me if you need my assistance.” He glowered down at the guards below and released a heavy sigh. “I shall remain here and keep watch.” He stood up sharply and took your hand before you could leave. “Il Corvo…”

You smirked and tossed your head back. “Worried about me already, Volpe?”

He reached a hand past and cupped it against your cheek. “Do not take unnecessary risks, please.”

You pressed a kiss into his wrist then left without another word. You were eager to start the task, adrenaline filling your veins with the prospect of stealing something valuable. Getting in there unnoticed and leaving just as silently was a thrill all in itself.

You reached the building unseen, racing across the peak of its roof before sliding across its slope to the edge. Shimmying down the side of the building was quick, smooth stone and cold metal gritting beneath your fingers. It was hanging from the ledge of the window that took time, the muscles in your arms searing. You kept your eyes closed, focused on the few passing guards as they marched down the hall, bickering about being hungry.

You pushed open the window as mindful as possible, making sure that it didn’t groan in the process. You slipped inside, ever aware of where the patrol had left off to. You sauntered through the house, working your way through the vast maze of hallways and rooms, avoiding guards with delightful ease until you stood before the targeted room.

Another patrol was nearing and you slipped behind the door just before they rounded the corner. You spun around and looked upon the massive podium, taking in the intricate carvings of the object posted there. It appeared a simple box, made of wood and not an ounce of gold, obviously not the true target. You couldn’t resist opening it and peeking inside.

You glowered at the object. It was a small thing and made of metal, not even a precious metal from the looks of it. You couldn’t imagine that this object, this simple little trinket, was why the fox had sent you into danger. You closed the box all the same and stuffed it into the rucksack on your back.

Once it was secure you let your senses roll out across the building in search of the guards. The way was mostly clear and you took that moment to make your escape. You weaved and waited, hiding behind curtains and furniture when necessary until you were back at the window. You leapt out, clung to the crevices in the wall and climbed back the way you had arrived.

La Volpe was waiting patiently, sweeping his eyes over you to make sure you hadn’t been hurt. When he was satisfied his features softened with relief. “Was it there?”

You scoffed. “A dingy little arrowhead? Yes, it was there.”

His lips twitched into a minor smirk. “You will better understand when we meet with the others. All of it will be better explained, I assure you.” He reached a hand out, placing it ever so gently upon the curve of your back and leading the way from the rooftop to the alleyways below.

You followed at a leisure pace, remembering each turn with precision, your senses briefly reaching out as guards passed here and there. They barely took notice of the two of you, your rich garbs likely deterring their suspicions. Your steps slowed when his slowed, nearing the mouth of a long walkway that led into one of the city’s major gardens.

La Volpe peered over at you, a spark of eagerness reaching his eyes. “You have earned this, Il Corvo. I could not be more proud of you.”

“I have earned this.” You grinned haughtily at him. You felt a bit of yourself returning to life. Perhaps it was the success of a mission or perhaps it was knowing that you’d managed to do something good. But you felt pleased with yourself.

He huffed at your arrogance while reaching the end of the path. “Tonight, you shall become one of the Order.”

You looked out at the gardens, your heart swerving inside of your chest. A few of them wore white and red robes, their hoods drawn over their faces as they gathered together to convene. You couldn’t help yourself. You thought back on the alley and remembered every detail. You remembered the blade at your throat and the harsh words of the man who held your life in his hands. Little mouse, he had said. Laughed that your friends hadn’t made it.

You stumbled away from the entrance as your thoughts reeled with bursts of anxiety. These were the Assassins? These were the people La Volpe wanted you to meet?

La Volpe turned towards you and away from the gardens, his brows diving down together. “Il Corvo?”

You jolted away from his outreached hand. “Those men… They are the ones you work with? They are the Assassin Order?” You nearly choked on those words as the heat of bile hit the back of your throat. The corner of your mouth pulled into a hard grimace.

“They are…” La Volpe stared helplessly, mouth agape. “What has--”

“Those are the people who killed my friends.” You glowered at him, tried to process everything that was happening. La Volpe worked for them. La Volpe was one of them. He tried to make you one of them.

“They couldn’t have done that. No, Il Corvo, they couldn’t have been the ones.” He tried to close the space between the two of you but you shrunk away from him, all of the trust you’d held for him was gone. “The Assassins... they protect the less fortunate such as thieves like us.”

“Protect me?” Your body trembled, a sickness that burrowed into your skin and bones. “They beat me. They left me for dead! I would’ve have choked on my own blood had you...”

He seemed stunned, completely shocked, but… you understood now.

“You said you found me…” You shook your head as a rage spilled over you, the pieces finally shoving messily together. “You were there with them, weren’t you? That’s how you knew I was there.”

“Wait. No.” He lifted his palms, tossing them about as he tried to explain, “I found you yes but I had no idea what had occurred.”

You strangled the rucksack strap, feeling the weight of it on your shoulder as you remembered the item you’d stolen. He had told it was dangerous and couldn’t fall into the wrong hands. You could think of no one who deserved it less than the people who’d assaulted you.

You sucked down a breath of air as the realization hit. “This whole time… You were lying to me this whole time?”

“I never lied to you, Il Corvo. There must be some misunderstanding.” La Volpe shook his head and once more he tried to reach out to you. “We will find out the truth---”

“La Volpe?” One of the Assassins approached, glaring from beneath his hood as he stepped beside the fox. Of course they had heard the shouting, the growing argument. “Is everything alright?”

He tried to wave him away but it was too late, the Assassin noticed the unbridled tension. “Yes, yes, it’s fine.”

“No! It’s not fine!” It took everything in you not to attack. You locked yourself in place and kept your eyes firmly planted on the shadow that fell over most of his features. “You’ve killed people. You plan on killing more people. How is that fine?”

He lifted his chin but it did little to reveal his face, only proved how arrogant he was. “Where is the artifact?”

“Il Corvo.” La Volpe lifted his palms as if it would somehow defuse the situation. “Hand it over. We will discuss this later.”

You cocked your head at him, shocked at his audacity. “You traitorous fox.”

The Assassin took a challenging step forward but La Volpe pressed a hand upon his chest in a desperate attempt to stop him. But the Assassin wasn’t having it, his desire for the meager metal object fueling his actions as he pushed La Volpe out of the way.

You focused on your ability, narrowed your senses, long enough to sidestep the outward strike of the Assassin’s hand. You twisted your body until you could ram the hard bone of your elbow against the soft cartilage of his neck, taking no time at all to kick his foot out from under him. His back slammed into the earth just as you pulled the dagger from your belt. You were inches from plunging the blade into his chest when La Volpe shoved you.

You staggered away and brought your heated gaze up to the fox, watching the horror spread across his features. You smirked all too pleased with yourself. “You shouldn’t have taught me everything you knew.”

“Il Corvo, I didn’t use you!” He jumped forward to grab the bag’s strap across your chest.

You avoided him, turning sharply down the path and running. You raced with reckless abandon and relied on what little of the city you’d memorised during your training. It easy to lose any pursuer, sliding in and out of shadows as if you controlled them, as if they were home.

You rounded a corner too quickly, bumping into another. You nearly growled, nearly shoved him with reckless fury, but you recognized the youth. He was the same youth you’d seen on countless occasions.

His eyes were red, glistening slightly with tears, mirroring your own. His voice cracked, “Scusi.” He ducked his head away, flicking a rapid glance over towards the alley before rushing off.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to remember his name and trying to decipher why he’d been so frightened and agonized. You heard them suddenly, their armor clanking like a kitchen as they marched closer. You raised a curious brow at their advances.

“He couldn’t have gotten far,” one of them spat and you knew suddenly who they were after.

“That man.” You easily acted concerned, placing on a mask of fear and pointing down a different alley, casually leading the guards astray. “I saw him run that way! Just a moment ago, you could catch him!” You kept the mask in place until they were blindly following your false lead. You weren’t sure why you were helping him. Perhaps his fear and sorrow reminded you of your own circumstances.

You hurried off once more. With each leap, each twist and turn, the weight on your back grew heavier. It was a terrible reminder of how foolish you had been. You clenched hold of the strap and skulked your way through the city until you thought that the lying fox and his wretched vigilantes were far enough away.

How could you have been so foolish? You thought the fox had been similar to you. A thief who learned to thrive above the clutches of society. You thought he had been a decent person who actually wanted the things he’d lectured about. After everything that occurred, how could you believe any of what he said?

You swayed in your next few steps, allowing your emotions to finally splinter out of you. Your shoulder hit the wall and you slid down it onto your knees. Your arms wrapped around yourself, the sobs shuddering out of you with each ragged breath. You panted from the long run and from the pain of being betrayed.

“Il Corvo, was it?” His steps were silent, prowling across the dirt as he walked past.

You stilled. You replaced your sorrow with anger in the blink of an eye. But upon looking at him you noticed he wasn’t one of the Assassins, at least, not one garbed in white and red. You watched with silent analysis as he stopped on the other side of the alleyway.

“Clever creatures, they are.” He turned and allowed the faint light of day to spill across the features his gray hood allowed. “I am Il Lupo, an enemy of the Assassins.”

You pressed yourself against the wall, using it to rise to your feet in case he attacked. “What do you want?”

“The artifact you carry must never reach them.” He stalked towards the mouth of the alley and waited. He knew you’d follow. He didn’t have to look at you to know. “The people I work for. They will ensure its safety.”

You shuffled forward, hesitant but desperate. “And who do you work for?”

“Templars. They have been fighting the corruption of the Assassins for centuries.” He finally turned back around, his cape flourishing with the gesture as he faced you. “You do not trust me, I understand, but you must trust me more than them.”

Templars. The fox had mentioned them once.

You forced your shoulders down and your head to rise. “Lead the way.”

Il Lupo was unwavering. He walked with purpose and determination, slipping in and out of crowds with the same ease that the fox had once shown you. But there was something lethal about the wolf, an underlying viciousness that would awaken should it be needed.

You kept your distance but followed nonetheless. You entered into the estate of a nobleman, joining the man in his office where he sat busily scribbling away on pristine parchment. He looked up, barely glimpsing you before doing a double take.

Il Lupo stopped before the desk, stepping off to the side and motioning you forward.

You lifted the rucksack over your head and tossed it onto the desk, the wooden box clattering and rattling. “Some treasure the Assassins desired. Have it. I don’t want it.”

He slowly glanced from the worn bag to Il Lupo. He finally settled on you and gave a firm nod. “Then I must thank you for bringing it to us. Had this item reached their hands… I dare not speak of the destruction they would have caused.”

You turned weakly from his desk, ready to leave.

“Hold a moment.” He stood up and pressed his palms into the wooden surface of the desk, resting his weight upon them. “You went through a great deal of trouble to obtain this item. Surely you want a reward of some sort.”

You smirked at the noble, almost torn between pride and regret. “It was the easiest thing I’ve ever stolen.”

He choked almost. He seemed insulted even. “Then… Might I convince you join us against the Assassins?”

Your expression hardened as bitterness took over. “No. I want nothing to do with them. Or whatever struggle you have with them. I’m leaving Florence.” You smirked with sudden false delight. “Perhaps I’ll visit the beach.”

Il Lupo reached back and tugged free a bag of coins. He tossed it and watched you casually catch it, coins clinking together. “You will need it.”

You clutched the small leather pouch, grasping tightly onto the hard metal beneath. “So I shall.” You didn’t give it a second thought. You left behind the noble and his wolf. You left behind the richly decorated estate and all of its finery. You left behind all of Florence, its corruption and politics, never wishing to look upon its buildings or streets again.

Mostly, you hoped to leave behind La Volpe and the person he tried to make you into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part of this "series" is called A Crow's Creed. It will take place three years from this event and we finally get to truly meet Ezio.


End file.
